


Driving Home For Christmas

by WayhaughtCl3xark3



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Car Sex, Christmas Fluff, Clarke is a tease, Clexa, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Humour, Smut, thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 13:19:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayhaughtCl3xark3/pseuds/WayhaughtCl3xark3
Summary: Fluffy, festive girlfriend fic... basically an excuse to write Clexa car sex.





	Driving Home For Christmas

  
  


“Hey, Lexa?”

“Yes, Clarke?”

“Can I play this CD mix I made for the journey?” Clarke waves the disc in her hand which she'd just produced from her bag.

Lexa groans, frustration evident. Lifting one hand from the steering wheel, she rubs her forehead. “Is it one of those cheesy pop music mixes you love to make?”

Clarke chuckles lightly but feigns innocence. “I don't know what you’re talking about.”

“You know the ones, Clarke, the 90's tunes, groups like NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, that English girl group...what were they called...Nice Girls?

Clarke bursts into laughter. “It's the Spice Girls, Lexa. They're the girl band that helped pave the way for girl power, women's empowerment and all that jazz. Surely you can get behind that.”

“Hmm, maybe I can make an exception but I refuse to call the other cheese-fest bands. It's just a bunch of pretty guys miming to a backing track whilst partaking in some questionable dance moves.”

Clarke scoffs. “They're called classics for a reason. Anyway, no, as it's Christmas I've made a holiday mix to tie in with the festive season.”

Lexa rolls her eyes. “Shit, Clarke that's even worse.”

Clarke smacks her arm lightly. “Shut up, Lex. Just ‘cause you think your music taste is superior to mine.”

Lexa smirks, giving her a sideways glance. “What can I say, they're classics for a reason.”

Clarke glares at Lexa's smug expression and sticks out her tongue, scrunching up her nose in the process. Lexa catches the childish action from the corner of her eye and smiles to herself as she concentrates on the road ahead of her.

“Anyway, can I put it on Lex, please?” Clarke asks sweetly—drawing out the last word—batting her eyelids and flashing those puppy-dog eyes she knows Lexa can never say no to.

She sighs. “Fine. Okay. Just don't blame me when we end up in a ditch ‘cause I've fallen asleep from boredom.”

Clarke beams at her and claps her hands overenthusiastically. (If it reminds Lexa of an excited seal she doesn't say anything.) “Trust me, you won't be falling asleep. I can assure you that.”

Lexa chances a quick glance at her girlfriend and notices the flirtatious smirk her face is currently sporting.

“What ideas are forming in that cute little head of yours, hmm?” she asks.

Clarke leans in and presses a chaste kiss to Lexa's cheek. “Mmmm, that's for me to know and for you to....maybe...quite possibly...find out.” She bites her lip suggestively (which Lexa doesn't miss) and then returns her attention to the CD in her hand, placing it into the car's stereo CD receiver.

The first song floods through the car speakers and sure enough, the cringe-fest had begun for Lexa.

“Jesus, Clarke, what the hell is this?” she laughs, scrunching up her face.

“East 17 – Stay another day. Why? What's wrong with it?”

“You said I wouldn't get bored. I can feel my brain shutting off and my ears closing up already.”

“Okay I'll skip this one but there's gotta be something on here you like. You aren't anti-Christmas songs, are you?”

Truthfully this was their first Christmas together, so Clarke wasn't entirely clued up on her girlfriend’s specific festive favourites just yet.

“There's a few I like, yeah, but your song choices are a mess if you think this Yeast 17 is a good enough track to put at the start of a Christmas mix. Honestly, I might have to seriously reconsider dating you if this is what you're gonna torture me with every Christmas.”

Clarke’s jaw drops open in disbelief and Lexa promptly receives a prod in the ribs.

Lexa struggles to suppress her amusement at the blonde's sulking—arms folded across her chest, eyes fixed straight ahead.

“Oh, Clarke. Come on, I’m kidding. I love you, you know that,” Lexa soothes.

That declaration causes Clarke’s tight-lipped expression to loosen into a smile and she looks over at Lexa, eyes brimming with affection.

“I love you too, Lex, but don’t think for one moment you’re getting off that easy.”

The song is skipped and after a beat, Lexa is surprised it's something she actually likes. She doesn't say anything but Clarke notices her fingers tapping lightly against the leather of the steering wheel and her mouth subtly miming to the lyrics.

_ Fuck,  _ those lips. All plump and pouty.

The permanently kiss-swollen look really does it for Clarke and she can't help but stare at the cute little crease in the middle of that bottom lip.

Clarke pipes up, singing along to the chorus.  _ “So here it is Merry Christmas, Everybody's having fun.” _ She looks across at Lexa again who catches her gaze briefly, before focusing on the road again. Smiling, they continue singing the next line together.  _ “Look to the future now it's only just begun.” _ _ _

Together they proceed with the next verse.  _ “Are you waiting for the family to arrive? Are you sure you got the room to spare inside? Does your granny always tell ya that the old songs are the best?” _

Lexa interjects. “See, Clarke, even granny thinks the old songs are the best. I told you they were classics.” A shit-eating grin spreads her features.

Clarke giggles at her girlfriend’s playful antics. “Babe?”

“Yes, Clarke?”

“Shut up.”

Lexa feigns offence, holding a hand up to her chest in mock-hurt which causes them both to erupt into laughter.

  
  


***

  
  


Minutes pass by in comfortable silence as Clarke's mind wanders to the reason for their journey. It's Christmas Eve and they've been invited to Clarke's parents for the holidays. They're roughly half an hour, maybe 40 minutes away from their destination and she can sense the tension rolling off her girlfriend in waves.

She goes to speak, but the song Santa Baby begins playing. An idea strikes her suddenly, something to avert Lexa's nerves. She turns her head in time to see Lexa quirk a brow at the song choice and catches the smirk tugging the corners of her lips. No comment is made however so Clarke takes it upon herself to start singing along to the sultry lyrics in her signature husky drawl. Choosing to replace the original lyrics from “Santa” to her girlfriend’s name instead.

_ “Lexa baby, slip a sable under the tree for me. Been an awful good girl. Lexa baby, and hurry down my chimney tonight.” _

Clarke smiles coyly, raising her eyebrows suggestively as she sings. She tries to gauge Lexa through her body language, watching intently as the hand resting in her lap grips at her right knee  between gear changes. Clarke moves her gaze upwards to Lexa's face and finds her chewing on her lower lip, clearly having trouble focusing on the road.

_ “Next year I could be just as good. If you'll check off my Christmas list.” _

Again, Clarke’s attention is drawn to the hand on Lexa's leg, it's gripping tighter now, she can tell by the way Lexa’s fingers dig into the denim of her jeans.

Clarke is well aware of the effect she's having on her girlfriend at this moment. She decides to speak up.

“Everything okay, babe? You seem a little distracted?”

Lexa doesn't miss the self-satisfied tone in her voice. There's no point in denying it, Clarke knows the effect her voice has on her.

“God, Clarke, you know what that voice of yours does to me, especially when you sing like that, all low and husky.” She licks her lips, shaking her head, trying to  reclaim some semblance of control .

Clarke gives her a cheeky smile and continues to watch as Lexa's brows furrow in concentration, trying her best to focus on her driving. She picks up on the next line again, bringing her own hand over to rest on top of Lexa's, giving it a gentle squeeze.

_ “Come and trim my Christmas tree. With some decorations bought at Tiffany. I really do believe in you. Let's see if you believe in me” _

The hand atop Lexa's loosens its grip as Clarke runs her palm along her girlfriend's thigh. She rubs soothing patterns up along the inside seam of her jeans before running back down and repeating the same motion.

Clarke notices Lexa shift in her seat and when forest green eyes meet Clarke's glassy sky blues for a brief moment, she senses just how worked up Lexa is getting.

Feeling brazen, Clarke works her hand back up Lexa's thigh and with a quick flick of her wrist the button of Lexa's jeans is unclasped, the zip is undone and Clarke's hand slips inside to cup her over her underwear. 

She hears the sharp intake of breath that gets caught in Lexa's throat but this only spurs her on as her fingers begin teasing, moving in agonisingly slow circles over Lexa's clit. 

Lexa's boxers are soaked through in seconds and Clarke can feel the heat in her own body rise and the arousal pool between her legs. Just knowing how much her touch affects Lexa turns her on to no end.

Warm breath tickles Lexa's ear as Clarke leans in to whisper, “I fucking love how your body reacts to me, I hardly have to touch you and—”

A strained whimper escapes Lexa's lips. 

“God, Lexa, you're so fucking hot.”

Lexa's hips roll, seeking the firm press of Clarke's hand. Her eyelids flutter and she almost loses her footing on the acceleration pedal in the process. 

After what feels like forever, they finally find somewhere safe to pull over. Only the sound of Lexa's laboured breathing can be heard above the forgotten music as the car veers off onto the shoulder.

The engine cuts off and Lexa immediately unbuckles her seatbelt and turns in her seat to catch Clarke's lips in a searing kiss.

One hand grips the back of Clarke's neck and twists into her hair. The other caresses her cheek as Lexa's mouth opens eagerly, seeking out Clarke's tongue. The kiss becomes fervent, tongues rolling over each other, breath coming out in pants, muffled moans escaping sealed lips.

“Fuck…Clarke...you're gonna make us late,” Lexa huffs between kisses. “Or worse, get us killed, I can't— I can't concentrate, you drive me in-fucking-sane”

“I don't care,” Clarke exhales breathily, reaching down to unclip her own seatbelt.

Lexa pulls away abruptly. “What? You want us to be found upside down in a ditch with your hand in my pants and this crappy CD stuck on repeat?”

Clarke can't help the low chuckle that emits from deep within her belly. “That's not what I meant and you know it.”

She leans forward chasing Lexa's lips but a finger is pressed against her own.

Lexa runs her index finger along Clarke's lower lip and there's a flash of pink as a tongue peeks out seductively licking at the tip. Sucking it into her mouth, Clarke bites down gently. 

Lexa can't help but stare, eyes fixated, as her girlfriend swirls her tongue around the digit in her mouth. It doesn't help the wetness gathering in her underwear and that fact isn't lost to Clarke either as her fingers still brush nonsensical patterns over the cotton-covered bud.

A moan catches in Lexa's throat. Her eyes flit shut and for a fleeting moment she weighs up the odds of being able to pull Clarke into her lap and ravish her there and then.

Instead, she slips her finger from Clarke's mouth. A small, disappointed crease forms between Clarke's brows at the action but she watches on as her hand is removed from its purchase inside Lexa's jeans.

Keeping their hands clasped together, fingers interlaced as Lexa leans forward, pressing a quick kiss to Clarke's forehead, the furrow soothing out instantly.

“I repeat,” she whispers, dipping her chin and looking up through her eyelashes at the blonde, softly caressing the dimple of her chin with her thumb. “You.” She places a tender kiss on Clarke's cheek. “Are gonna make.” Another to the tip of her nose. “Us.” Lips brush along the length of Clarke's jawline, breath heavy and warm against Clarke's skin. “Late.” She finishes with a light nibble to Clarke's earlobe, revelling in the shudder it produces.

When Lexa leans back, Clarke is left slack-jawed, eyes a little wider than usual, her pupils blown and her chest heaving heavily, the basic form of breathing having evaded her. 

She blinks back, forcing herself to regain some composure. “I know, but it would be worth it.” Tracing a finger along the jut of Lexa's collarbone, she purrs, “plus, did I mention? I don't care.” 

Lexa brushes a stray lock of hair behind her girlfriend's ear and her hand comes to rest on her shoulder. “I want you, I do. But I want this weekend to run smoothly and to make a good impression on your parents. Tardiness is not a good start, Clarke.”

_ “Oooh,  _ tardiness is not a good start,” Clarke mocks in a satirical tone. “Babe, you sound like my Mom. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining a moment ago.”

“Clarke.”

“Yeah, I know, Lex. Mockery is not the product of a strong mind.” She reiterates—it's something she's heard Lexa say many times before, a saying her stepdad Titus has drummed into her. “But what about a fun, super sexy mind like mine?” Clarke grins at her girlfriend teasingly, eyes crinkling at the corners.

At the visible set of Lexa's jaw, she sighs, face softening slightly. Her thumb stroking the back of Lexa's hand absentmindedly. “You're a firefighter, Lexa; you save people's lives. I think first impressions are covered.” She brings Lexa's hand up to her lips and presses a kiss to her knuckles. 

Lexa smiles at the affectionate gesture, her nerves subsiding somewhat. However, the moment doesn't last long before—

“Besides, we might end up being late, but believe me when I say I'll have you coming in no time.”

Lexa rolls her eyes at the blonde's antics but she doesn't relinquish the hold her right hand now has on Clarke's neck, toying with the tiny hairs at the nape. Her other hand slides up Clarke's thigh, subconsciously drawing patterns over the fabric, causing a sigh to escape Clarke's parted lips.

They sit there breathing each other in. A shiver shoots through Lexa’s body at the feeling of warm breath tickling over her skin. All trace of mirth now erased from Clarke's features. The moment is charged; electric, even. 

Clarke brings her hand up to trail her fingers along Lexa's jaw, following the column of her throat before coming to a stop where the collar of her button-down gapes open, revealing a tantalizing amount of skin. Her fingers snatch a fistful of Lexa's shirt and she leans forward, recapturing Lexa's lips.

Mouths open instantaneously, tongues meeting in a frenzy. Clarke nips lightly, tugging down on Lexa's puffy lower lip with her teeth. She releases it with an audible 'pop' before running her tongue along the contour of Lexa's jawline.

Lexa swallows thickly as Clarke's tongue leaves hot wet trails along her jaw, simultaneously sending a tingling sensation down to the base of her spine.

"You’re so sexy, I want you so bad,” Clarke husks.

“Mmm, you know, I don't believe you have been an awfully good girl. In fact, I think you've been very, very naughty,” Lexa teases playfully. “Also this Santa thing isn't gonna work for me. He only comes once a year and your mouth alone has me coming multiple times a night.” The provocative lilt in her voice drives Clarke impatient.

She groans. “Fuck my parents, I need you now!”

Lexa screws up her face in disgust. “I want you, not your parents, Clarke.”

“Okay smartass, you know what I mean.”

Lexa shifts their position, tilting her head and latching onto Clarke's pulse point, switching from gentle nips to soothing the sensitive area with the flat of her tongue. A rosy flush spreads across her chest and dusts the apples of her cheeks and Lexa can feel Clarke's pulse becoming slightly more erratic beneath her mouth.

“I think you might need to elaborate.” Lexa's voice hums against Clarke's neck as she licks a stripe up the hollow of her throat.

Clarke gasps. “God, just shut up and fuck me, Lexa.”

All previous thoughts fly out the window as Lexa descends upon Clarke's lips once again. The fire in the pit of her stomach is threatening to explode and she cannot deny her desire any longer.

Lexa hoists herself up and over the centre console of the car, managing to avoid releasing the handbrake as she straddles Clarke's lap. Grabbing the lever at the base of the seat, Lexa yanks it back, tipping the seat and its occupants in the process.

Their lips finally part, breath coming out in pants as they gasp for air.

Lexa hovers over Clarke, their faces mere inches away. Her eyes are glued to Clarke's deep cerulean pools (she feels as though she could drown in them) while hands roam in desperate search of bare skin.

Clarke's fingers come to rest at the hem of Lexa's shirt, lightly tickling the skin beneath it. She leans forward meeting Lexa halfway, their lips melding together as they pull each other closer.

Lexa's hand threads into Clarke's hair, the other wraps around her waist whilst the blonde attacks the buttons of her shirt. Her fingers fumble, unfastening each one in quick succession. The shirt falls open, but neither of them attempts to remove it. Clarke rucks up the tank top underneath letting the pads of her fingers gently ghost along the smooth expanse of Lexa's toned stomach, causing goosebumps to bloom on her skin. Lexa's belly flutters involuntarily as Clarke lightly drags her fingers up between her breasts, kneading the soft swells.

Fingertips graze the stiff peaks through the material of Lexa's sports bra as she pushes her chest out, eager for more attention. Lexa abandons their kiss to suck in a breath and her hips jerk up in Clarke's lap, seeking friction where she needs it most.

She feels rather than hears the low rumble of a laugh catch in Clarke's throat.

“What?” she mumbles.

“Nothing, someone's eager is all.”

“Well… why don't you do something about it?”

It's a demand rather than a question and Clarke smirks up at Lexa before dropping her gaze to where the brunette's fly still hangs open. When Clarke's eyes meet hers in a silent bid for consent, she gives a reassuring nod.

Her hands splay across Lexa's back, sliding downward, following each delicate notch of her spine until she reaches the waistband of her jeans. One hand skims it's way beneath the tight denim and she palms at Lexa's ass, tugging her down into her lap as far as she possibly can. The other runs along her thigh before slipping inside the opening at the front of her pants and into her underwear. 

Clarke shudders visibly, her fingers sliding through slick folds. Feeling just how soaked Lexa is for her evokes a growl from somewhere deep in her chest.

“Jesus. Fuck, Lexa. You're so fucking wet.”

Lexa's spine arches and she tosses her head back, her hips grinding down into Clarke's touch. She bites down on her lip trying to suppress a whimper as Clarke teases her entrance, dipping two fingers into her wetness and circling her opening.

When Clarke finally sinks those fingers into her, Lexa's whole body tenses and her walls flutter around the intrusion. She sets a steady pace, and Lexa gulps, swallowing hard when the added pressure of Clarke's thumb brushes her clit.

It doesn't take long before they're both breaking into a light sweat, most likely due to the fact they're still fully clothed. The angle is pretty awkward but the constricted movement only adds to the sensations caused by the deep thrust of Clarke's fingers driving in and out of her frantically. 

Breath coming in short harsh puffs, Lexa reaches up with her free hand and grips the handle above the car door for support. Her hips rock down hard, matching Clark's tempo, chest burning as she struggles to catch her breath.

A twinge shoots up Clarke's arm and her wrist starts to ache from the position of her hand. Nails rake through her hair as Lexa crushes their lips together in another open-mouthed kiss. It's intoxicating, full of need and it's dirty as hell and Clarke can feel white-hot heat flowing through her veins. She shifts uncomfortably, her underwear already ruined. She's drenched and Lexa hasn't even touched her yet.

As if reading her thoughts, the hand tangled in her hair shifts and comes down to massage a breast over the material of Clarke's shirt, pulling a desperate sound from the blonde. Lexa pushes Clarke's shirt up. Her touch skims delicately over each new patch of exposed skin, finally coming to a stop just below Clarke's bra. Lexa searches Clarke's face for any signs of hesitancy. When she finds none her hand slips beneath the bra to cup a full breast, catching a nipple between her ring and middle finger. Clarke sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, holding back the high pitch whine that threatens to escape her.

Lexa watches Clarke squirm, her body begging for Lexa's touch. This revelation, along with the huffs of pleasure that leak from Clarke's lips at the direct attention being paid to her chest and the rate at which Clarke is pumping into her causes a fresh rush of arousal between her legs.

A litany of curse words spill from Lexa's mouth as she approaches orgasm. Lexa's grip on the handle tightens and her hips stutter when Clarke adds a third finger, gliding in and out of her with ease.

Clarke licks her lips in a feeble attempt to wet her mouth, any moisture having long since fled to other parts of her anatomy. Her brain goes numb, her senses cloudy, her world solely focused on loving the woman on top of her, surrounding her. She feels Lexa clench around her fingers as they curl inside her, stroking the spongy surface of her front wall.

At this point, the windows are fogged up as result of their heavy breathing. There really isn't much room in the confined space of Lexa's car and it's getting hotter by the second as if someone's dialled the heat up to 100. Neither one of them cares though, too wrapped in each other to notice.

Lexa looks down and the sight of Clarke drawing her fingers in and out rhythmically, paired with the obscenely wet sounds makes her ears burn. She screws her eyes shut, feeling the onslaught of her climax creeping up on her fast.

“God, Clarke,” she pants erratically, “so close.”

Bringing her hand up to rest against the centre of Lexa's back to support her, Clarke firms the pressure of her thumb on Lexa's clit. Drawing back the hood, she switches between rubbing tight circles to flicking the swollen tip, causing an incoherent Lexa to convulse around her.

Their eyes lock—pupils blown in a fit of pure hunger—and that's it. A few sharp breaths later and Lexa's hand falls from the handle above her, grabbing a hold of the headrest behind Clarke's head, nails digging into the fabric. The low guttural moan that rips through her throat rings in Clarke's ears as she spills into her palm.

A wave of pleasure courses through her, causing a shiver to rack her form. Lurching forward, Lexa collapses into Clarke's arms. Gasping harshly, she lets out a ragged exhale and buries her nose into the crook of Clarke's neck, reeling in her post-orgasmic state.

Easing her down from her high, Clarke dips her head and peppers the underside of Lexa's jaw with open-mouthed kisses. Her mouth ghosts down to the join where neck meets shoulder to suck at the soft flesh there and her fingers run soothing patterns into Lexa's back. Whilst muttering calm praise into Lexa's ear, Clarke's fingers still and she gently removes her hand from between Lexa's legs.

Leaning back slightly, Clarke tilts Lexa's chin up so she can meet her gaze. Her lips crook up into a smirk when she sees the blissed-out look plastered on Lexa's face. She laughs softly, pressing a chaste kiss to Lexa's upper lip, atop the faint little freckle she finds all too adorable.

“What's so funny, Clarke?” Lexa asks, quirking a brow in question.

“Nothing. Just— you're too cute after you orgasm.”

Lexa arches her brow even further, it's a wonder it doesn't disappear into her hairline.

Off her questioning look, Clarke continues. “It's true, you get this adorable little wrinkle in your nose and this content expression which radiates your entire face. Sex looks good on you.”

Lexa blushes a light shade of pink under the attention. “Clarke.”

“What? I can't help how attracted I am to you.” The sincerity in her voice is clear yet somehow still teasing as Clarke brushes their noses together and leans in for another kiss.

They're cut short by the sound of an approaching vehicle coming to a halt. Lexa pulls away, headlights blinding her as she tries to make out who it could be. It's getting dark but Lexa can still make out the distinct police markings.

_ “Shit! _ It's the cops!” She frantically tries to readjust her shirt and climb off Clarke to get back into the driver's seat but in her haste to manoeuvre herself over the centre console, she slips and head-butts Clarke and they end up in a tangled mess.

“Ow! Shit, Lexa. What the fuck?” Clarke hisses in pain, clutching her nose in her hands.

Footsteps can be heard outside and there's a rap of knuckles on the passenger window. Clarke winds it down.

A female voice speaks in an authoritative tone. “Ma'am, could you please explain what you're doing at 5.30 in the evening fucking your girlfriend's brains out by the side of the road when you should be at your parent's house?”

Authoritative it may be but neither of them is fooled. If not for the accusation, they both recognise who the voice belongs to and look up to see Raven stood by the side of the car, lips curled into a mischievous smirk.

“For fuck sake, Reyes!” Clarke grumbles, hand rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Lexa sighs with relief. “Wow, Raven, way to give a girl a heart attack.”

“And a broken nose,” Clarke adds.

Raven stares between the two, sprawled out in Lexa's Pontiac Sedan. The sight is highly amusing. Between Clarke clinging onto her face like she's gone three rounds with Ronda Rousey and Lexa spread out with all the grace of a newborn foal—her head perilously close to Clarke's breasts—Raven doesn't know which is funnier.

“Wow,” she snickers, thoroughly enjoying having interrupted. “You guys are such thirst monsters you couldn’t even go a 2-hour drive without having a fumble in the jungle.”

“Shut it, Reyes,” Clarke retorts, lightly punching her shoulder. “Anyway, what's with the cop car?”

“I know, isn't it awesome! It's authentic and everything. Uncle Sinclair lent it to me for the holidays. He bought it at an auction, totally out of action, but we fixed it up no trouble.” Upon the confused look on Clarke's face she continues, “Yeah I know. I didn't tell you specifically for this reason; I wanted to scare the shit out of you one day. Gotta say I think it worked.”

Raven gestures to the both of them as Lexa shifts back into her seat. She licks her finger, pointing it in the air to emphasise it's point one - nil to her. 

“Oh, and champ? Your pants are still open.” She gives Lexa a cheeky wink, voice practically dripping with satire.

Lexa looks down, hastily zipping up her fly and fastening the button of her jeans. Her answering blush could light a church full of candles from the burn of her cheeks.

Clarke swats at Raven's arm. “Ray,” she warns.

“Hey! Stop attacking me blondie. I’m only stating facts, facts that could save lives. Maybe not actual lives like you save, Lexa, but like your asses ‘cause there ain't no way Abby won’t notice a single hair out of place on Clarkey’s head. She probably already knows you just defiled her daughter in the middle of nowhere. The woman has a sixth sense, I swear.

Lexa’s eyes grow wide but before either her or Clarke can utter a word, Raven continues. “Just wait until Anya hears about this later, she'll positively combust.”

Clarke throws her a frosty glare. “You really are insufferable, you know that?”

“It's part of my charm,” Raven chirps.

“Whatever you say. Now stop trying to scare my girlfriend and scram before I call my Mom and tell her you insulted her cooking at the last family dinner while she was out of the room by saying her brisket looked like Gandhi's flip-flops and you're left to eat take-out in your car.”

A sharp breath. “You wouldn't dare!”

“Just try me.”

Raven gives in. “Okay, okay, I'm going. I'll see you fuck birds later.” She turns and slinks off, back towards her car, feet scuffing through the loose gravel. “Oh, and heads up,” she calls after them. “Better buy an air freshener at the nearest gas station, it reeks of sex in there.” With that last jibe, she's in her car and speeding off, leaving Clarke and Lexa alone again.

Clarke's nose is fine if not a little sore. The only other thing that's prominent is the wetness between her thighs—her underwear long since ruined—and the churning want in her stomach from the lack of release. The disturbance from Raven has done nothing to quell the fire sparking her body like a live wire. Especially when she locks eyes with Lexa again.

Lexa returns the stare knowingly. She swallows thickly, watching as Clarke's pupils dilate, hunger still very much evident in her gaze. But she's very much aware of the time and they really should be making tracks. 

“So, you ready?”

Clarke chuckles. “Shouldn't I be asking you that?”

Lexa leans in to plant a soft kiss on Clarke's lips, before leaning back and placing one to the tip of her nose. Clarke's eyelids flicker and she hums in approval.

“Come on, Lex, we'd better get going. Before I end up taking you in the back seat of this car and leaving you to explain to my parents why we couldn't make it on time.”

Lexa smiles, buckling up her seat belt and turning the key in the ignition. The engine roars to life and she switches through to first gear, pulling out onto the open road and heading toward their destination.

Clarke turns to her, gently stroking her fingers up and down Lexa's arm, causing soft golden downy hairs to stand on end. “Make no mistake though, I'm most definitely not finished with you.” She throws Lexa a wink. “You owe me.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.  
> This is my first fic upload, so let me know what you think.
> 
> Thanks to femininenachos for her excellent beta skills.
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr at [clexacloneclub](https://clexacloneclub.tumblr.com/)


End file.
